


A Happiness Louder Than Thunder

by pwnedbypineapple



Category: HetaOni, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:04:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pwnedbypineapple/pseuds/pwnedbypineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For one night, the stars are brighter and the hearts are warmer, and in the silence, things are realized. A possible and probably unlikely ending for HetaOni. No spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Happiness Louder Than Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> mood music: "Louder Than Thunder" by The Devil Wears Prada

_"i don't think i deserve it - selflessness._  
 _find your way into my heart."_

* * *

It's a stunned silence that follows their escape and preludes their joy, a moment in which everything is quiet, questioning, doubtful, and in denial. Eyes meet, reaffirming existence, rolling up to look at the stars. Those sparkling, distant points of silver, positioned as they should be in harmony with the relentless and reassuring march of time, confirm the realization and elation that has begun to grow in their hearts. A low rumble begins, deep and contained, not stirring a single breath, until America throws back his head and lets loose a shout of triumph. It echoes the roar that reverberates silently, primal and exultant, and it draws them in. Silence is banished. They all join in and give voice to that glorious thunder, victorious and defiant, moved to abandon inhibitions and rejoice as children might - embracing and laughing, clustered together as if afraid to lose the closeness that has kept them together and kept them alive.

And in their center, surrounded by _life, thank God, they're alive_ , Italy stands astonished, as his aching shoulders are liberated from what has almost crushed him. The world is celebrating around him, differences and diversity forgotten. Theirs is a joyous crescendo in the face of the death that almost took them, and it shakes him to his core.

 _Over, it's over. It's_ _ **over.**_ He's trembling, hardly daring to believe that he's free, that the dead faces of his friends won't be waiting for him when he wakes up from what has to be the most beautiful dream in the world.

No - this is real. Their smiling faces and happy embraces... it's all _real_. The sheer unreality of what he's finally left behind hits him all at once, and his legs practically give way. But that's okay, because there are cheering nations all around him and Germany and Japan on either side of him, and even though he can barely support himself under the new weight of wonderfully crippling liberation, they're holding him up without realizing it.

* * *

It is much later, and silence has once more taken hold. There's a great deal to do, much to put in order, and that means they have to part for a little while. But they haven't forgotten the promise made in darkness, are determined to hold to it, and normalcy be damned.

And that means Italy eventually finds himself on the way to Japan's house, accompanied by Germany, as night settles deeply and the earth itself seems to grow completely silent and motionless. Everything has ceased; wind and life are quiet, calm. Thoughts are magnified in the stillness, and Italy can't help but feel an acute need to see his friends all together, to reassure himself that they are, in fact, alive. Perhaps these thoughts are too loud or perhaps Germany notices how he twitches in anticipation, because the taller nation gives him a sideways glance.

"Almost there," Germany says, his tone unusually soothing.

Italy nods once. "I know," he responds, giving Germany a smile.

Germany frowns at this. "You should only smile if you really want to," he reminds Italy, who freezes for a moment, wondering how he has become so transparent.

"You're not," says Germany. "I just know you even better now."

This time, most of Italy's smile is real. "Germany, you're a mind reader!"

The other nation sighs at this and does not respond, leaving Italy to take his advice. And Italy does. His face becomes set in a determined little frown, a perfect replica of the one usually found on Germany's face.

Germany scowls when he notices, hiding the twitching of his mouth. "I didn't mean for you to mock me!"

Italy does not laugh, only smiles, softly... not a _real_ one, not until he can see everyone for himself, just once more to confirm to himself. He hurries forward, urging Germany faster, eager to get there and put to rest the uneasy thoughts the silence has brought forth in his head.

* * *

The silence is literally shattered the minute they arrive.

A deafening sound wave hits them upon entering, a chorus of cheers and welcomes and general goodwill. Italy is taken aback by the sight before him, eyes widening. "Germany, you said we were early!"

"I may have bent the truth," Germany says, smiling. "I, ah, thought it would do you some good to see this." He looks away, uncomfortable as always when it comes to things like this.

Bright, warm lights cast a cozy glow over the wide main room. Everyone is gathered, grinning at Italy, hands and glasses raised in welcome. Japan is hurrying forward to greet them, smiling in a quiet but truly glad way. Behind him, Prussia is casually reclined on one of the low cushions, laughing uproariously for no real reason. England, America, and Canada are side by side across from him. America has his arms around the shoulders of the other two, and for once, they don't seem to mind. Further back, Russia seems surprised and almost a bit glad to be surrounded by China, France, Spain, and Romano, all of whom have broken off in mid-conversation to join in the general greeting.

The sight renders Italy unable to speak for several moments, until he breaks out into a huge grin, one so real and natural that it's impossible to imagine him without it.

* * *

They carry out everything they said they would, and the silence is held at bay by the happiness, the companionship that ignores all boundaries in favor of a shared experience that leaves them more changed than they know.

* * *

It is very late at night when silence reigns, when at last all have gone to sleep after a long day of being not nations, but humans. Reservations are cast aside; the floor is an impossible maze of slumbering nations who only want the closeness to remain as long as possible. The need to touch and feel the warmth of living friends will not simply go away quickly, and this may be the last time they have to truly satisfy that.

It is to this that Germany awakens - a tangle of snoring nations and sleeping bags, futons and bodies bunched close together. But the area to his right feels distinctly empty and cold. Italy is not there; there is a conspicuous gap between Germany and Japan.

Germany lifts his head and sees a small, familiar figure crouched outside the open door, blue-white moonlight tracing gently over him.

How _does_ anyone sleep through America's snores? Germany wonders sleepily, before forcing his mind into a greater state of alertness. He rises, careful not to disturb those around him, and one way or another manages to navigate the maze and make it past. Italy has to hear him, particularly after Germany nearly trips over France and comes close to colliding headfirst with the floor. But Italy makes no move or indication that he's aware of Germany's approach.

Outside, the silence is absolute. Italy's head is tilted up, gazing at the stars. He makes no sounds, but there are tiny tear tracks on his face, and he blinks rapidly as Germany takes a seat beside him.

Germany doesn't say anything. He's learned a thing or two.

When Italy speaks, his voice trembles. "I'm happy, I really am," he murmurs. "I-I never thought we would make it out alive." There's a 'but' handing on at the end of that sentence, as loud as the silence.

Italy drops his head, gazing at the ground instead. "Everyone's going to go back to arguing... won't we?"

"We will," Germany says, simply, evenly. "Unless humanity has a universal change of heart, it's going to happen."

He can tell it's the answer Italy was expecting, but it does nothing to ease that look on the nation's face. Italy sighs, breath hitching slightly. "So... it wasn't even worth it, then?"

"You tell me, Feliciano."

Italy's head snaps up. Slowly, he looks at Germany, then back up at the sky, the bright stars so very distant yet so very reassuring. He seems to be thinking hard.

"Yes," he says at last, hesitantly at first, but gaining confidence. "Yes... Ludwig. It isn't something I would ever ask for, but since we did experience such terrible things, we might as well take something from them... right?"

Germany nods, a small smile finding its way onto his face.

Italy swallows hard and suddenly he's crying again, but they're not the same tears as before. He's even smiling as he cries and leans against Germany's shoulder. He hasn't shed a single tear since escaping that place, and now all that pain and fear and sorrow and relief is coming out all at once. Germany remains still, letting him take comfort in the closeness.

Behind them, the world slumbers in peace.

* * *

_"all stars could be brighter.  
all hearts could be warmer."_


End file.
